


it’s ironic really

by kattsoupie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt No Comfort, Major character death - Freeform, Sad Ending, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), lonely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:47:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattsoupie/pseuds/kattsoupie
Summary: All he’d ever wanted was for them all to be one big, happy, family. He’d give anything for it.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 198





	it’s ironic really

It’s ironic really. He’d been fighting for all long as he could remember, some say for no reason but for chaos, but all he’d ever wanted was to unite the people around him into one happy family. He loved all of his friends in this little yet growing community, to him they already were a family. Family’s argue and fight sure, but the constant drumming of violence and spite against his skull didn’t sound like a family to him. This isn’t the family he wanted so he decided to try and help them. He would jump in at any given opportunity, insert himself into conflicts and try his best to bring them to a resolve. Usually he was quite successful on this front, the parties in the dispute would align themselves swiftly... Most times they were aligned against him but that’s neither here nor there. He didn’t care, after all, as long as everyone else was happy so was he.

It’s ironic really, he was too enamoured by all the family relationships developing right in front of him; so elated to witness his life’s goal coming into fruition so close that he could step forward and embrace it, that he didn’t care to notice how he had anchored his feet to the floor with chains of cruel words and harsh looks. He’d built the foundations of his forever home in a forest then lost his way back. That family, his dream family. His great unfinished symphony.   
No one would look at him anymore, they didn’t see their friend, or their brother, or anything but that cold hard mask. To them there was nothing behind it, to them he was just a vessel for everything bad that had ever happened to them. They decided he had to die for this.

So many faces, so many eyes darting around, they could barely face the man in front of them. They knew what was going to happen, they agreed that it was for the best; they agreed the mask had to die. A collective was reached, they’d planned and schemed for weeks. There was no hand not to be involved in the event, after all, would this not benefit every last one of them. It was all lain out perfectly, the plan commit to each memory second by second. The only conclusion they could not reach is who would be the one to do it. Some argued for who had the right to, some argued who should be made to, but in the end they could never agree. It would be down to be gods. They would get him somewhere he could not escape his fate and hang a thousand weights above his head. When the rope comes to the end of its life, the end of Dream’s would follow fast. And here they were. It would be easy to say there had been a gruelling battle full of bloodshed and anguish; easy to convince that Dream had reinforced in all of their minds that he had to go for he was too powerful and does nothing good with this power. But that would not be true. Despite all the preparations, all the training, all the thousands of scenarios they had ran over in every waking and sleeping hour, he came peacefully. He’d walked to meet them out in the snowy plain. No armour, no weapons. He came with nothing but the mask upon his face.

He stood looking out over them now. These were his final moments under the hanging anvil taunting his immanent demise. They’d set him on a platform, caged in by iron bars only inches away from clawing at his skin. The first touch he would have in so long would be the cold embrace of the metal around him. the silence in the gathered crowd was deafening for in between the unspoken words were screams and cries ringing in his ears. Their gazes cast to the floor bore straight into his skin. He’d be alone for months, isolated, allowing the thoughts of his lost family escape him. Desperately trying to free himself of the envy and craving for what once was. He’s be alone for so long and yet in that moment, surrounded by every single person he cared for, Dream had never felt more alone.

It had happened again. He’d done the only thing he seems to be good for, one final time. In his efforts to resolve a problem he’d united everyone against himself. This is what he’d thought for for so long yeah? to see everyone all together, they’re united, rallying together for a common goal. They’re fighting for what they believe is right... as a family. 

He was crying. Dream was crying, blatantly letting the tears flow down to fall from under the mask, the sobs ringing out, echoing through all those gathered’s hearts. The man who they’d seen as nothing but an enemy had gained his humanity back. To some it felt unfair, how can he stand there and cry like a hurt victim as if he didn’t bring this fate upon himself. He walked himself to the guillotine then cried when the blade is above his neck. It wasn’t fair and they would make sure he knew that.  
“Why the hell are you crying, what the hell is wrong with you? you’ve been asking for this for so long now. This is just what you deserve” And damn was that everything he wanted to hear.

Despite the spite and anger dripping from those words, all Dream heard was a confirmation of every thought occupying his mind right now. He’d been asking for them to stand like this, together, as a family for so damn long now. All he’d wanted so so fucking long in surely after he’d given every last drop of himself to them all, this is what he deserves. To finally get what he wanted. He couldn’t stop smiling, he couldn’t stop crying. Why was he crying, everything he wants is right there, so close he could step out and embrace it? Then everything crashed down. It hurt more than any anvil would eve hurt him. The weight of reality crushed him, they would always be just out of reach. His dream could never belong to him, he’d never feel the love of a father or mother, he’d never be held by his brothers, he’d never hold his sisters. Because the only thing that ever brought them together, the only thing that made them this family... was him. Himself as the enemy, the common ground. The only way he could live his dream, was to die for it. 

“Look at you all” he thought out loud, if he were going to die on this rock then what did it matter if for once he was finally vulnerable. “you look like the family i always wanted”.   
The way he choked through the words you wouldn’t believe it, “i’m so happy” but the giant smile plastered across his face, barely visible under the mask, made his words ring true.   
“This is all i’ve ever wanted, to finally be a happy family”.  
The rope above him had began to splinter, the weight of the anvil aching to crush its victim was becoming to much for it to bare.  
“If dying is what it takes for you to finally be happy and be together and be a damn family”, his voice rising with every word, the anger and grief and jealousy becoming so clear as he spits out the word family like it hurts to hear his own voice carry the word. “then i’ll die a hundred times over.” 

It’s ironic really. How as he promised the ultimate sacrifice, the rope gave way. A scream tore out as the anvil dropped. He’d never heard his own name laced with so much pain and guilt. The last face he’d ever see would be the one of his first friends. His first and last family. 

His body lay still. The right side of his body crushed under the grey weight. A mask lay shattered right beside him. A broken smile mirrored by that of their old friend. He died so they would all be happy, and yet, as he lay there with a gentle peace gracing his exposed face, the world around him was torn up with unreserved sobs, screams of anguish echoing on his empty ears. They cried for him to be okay, to come back to them. They screamed promises of friends, promises of family, promises of happiness.

Its not sad. It’s ironic really.


End file.
